Every dog shall have his day
Every dog in Brooklyn was in the park this morning. R and J are off doing Passover things this weekend, so instead of walking crookedly up the straight sidewalk to the green market with J, Mr. Spy and I opted to walk straight up the crooked path. We plunged into the park and found it had been taken over by dogs of every conceivable shape, size and color. There was a great deal of butt sniffing, growling, nipping, barking and general puppy mayhem and it was a joy to watch. You know what’s better than watching a corgi run? Watching four corgis run among a sea of dogs whose legs are longer than the corgis’ whole bodies.
One of the hard things about the city is that there is so little opportunity, for children and dogs especially, to do things without worrying about other people. To run and not have to accommodate others. Everyone needs to learn to respect others. But everyone also needs to know what it feels like when you don’t have to worry about them, when you can just go full out under your own power and see how far it will take you.
People are starting to come back to the market after a quiet winter, but there are still no vegetables. I was hoping for rhubarb and asparagus. There are still only parsnips and carrots and cabbage. But we restocked on milk and bread and eggs and apples, grabbed a bunch of tulips, and headed home, outside the park this time, the path where all the dogs are on leashes and all the small children are strapped in strollers.
“I had a dream last night,” said a woman in a chattering group as we passed and pulled in front of them on the sidewalk. She was fighting for attention. “I had a dream last night about a dessert.” At this the group quieted down. “It was a brownie with sliced bananas and bacon. A brownie with SLICED BANANAS and BACON.” She had to say it twice to make sure they understood. A surprised voice behind us said, “that actually sounds GOOD.” “I know, right?” A third chimed in, “Let’s go make your dreams come true.”